Menorahs and Mistletoe
by jancat10
Summary: Will Darcy feels a bit out of place during the holiday season, until he meets Elizabeth Bennet.


When William Darcy was growing up, every house in his neighborhood sparkled with festive green and red lights. Red ribbons wound around columns, plastic penguins lined the walkways, inflatable Santas and plastic manger scenes populated the front yards. But his house was dark, the lawn bare.

His school's holiday pageant included a Christmas tree and a menorah on stage. He was never chosen to light a candle, but when he was in second grade, his name was picked from a Santa hat. He would be his classroom's honorary ornament presenter, and would hang the class ornament on the tree in front of the entire school. Will had never been near a real live Christmas tree before. He hadn't known the needles were sharp and would prick his finger, bringing tears to his eyes and making him drop the pretty tinfoil snowflake he'd cut out. The entire school sat in silence, hearing his cries of "Ow!" and watching the snowflake drift slowly to the floor of the stage. The laughter began in the third row, when his most hated classmate, George Wickham, started chortling, "Told ya so!" The teachers shushed them, but Will remembered George's complaints from earlier in the day: "Why is the Jewish kid hanging an ornament? That's not fair!" Will dreaded the bus ride home. In his mind, not even the glimpse of Jamie McPhister's Power Rangers underwear when she'd reached up to light the menorah could overcome such notoriety.

His parents heard the story at a neighborhood party. His father called him to his study and reminded him that he was not to celebrate Christmas, that he should have declined when his name was pulled. He was Jewish and should be proud of it. His mother, as usual, said nothing.

That memory returned every year, even now, twenty years later. He stood in the doorway at his best friend's HanuKrismas party and wondered why holidays were supposed to be so fun. This party was fun, if you were moved by the spirit of the holiday or the spirits Charles had arrayed on his bar. But Will was not moved by any of it.

His parents had been gone for more than 10 years now. The breach their marriage had created between their families had never healed, not even with their deaths. His universe remained centered on boarding school, college and the kindness of friends who enjoyed his company at their Thanksgiving tables.

The winter holidays, he'd spent traveling. All of the important holidays his father had impressed upon him and which they had solemnly marked—Passover, Yom Kippur, Hanukkah—went by without notice. Much notice, anyway.

He did wander into synagogue occasionally, but he felt disconnected from the familiar words of the Torah. They made him grieve. By age 19, he'd decided to minor in comparative religions and figure out what bits and pieces felt right to him. As a result, "optimistic agnostic" was the best way he could describe himself now.

A peal of laughter caught his attention and drew him back to the party. Charles was laughing in the corner with his latest flame, Jane Bennet. Charles was always so happy. He was always with happy people. Sometimes Will wondered why they were friends. What did Charles find fun about him?

"Excuse me, can I squeeze by?"

He looked down. A brunette in a black sweater carrying two glasses of punch was trying to get through the doorway.

"I said, excuse me!"

Her eyes were a fiery green and she was giving him an annoyed, disapproving once-over.

He scooted to the side. "Sorry," he mumbled. She passed through the doorway to a loud group of partygoers. He recognized one or two from previous parties, and gathered himself. _Dammit, mingle._

He approached the group and stood silently, listening to their jokes about ugly Christmas sweaters.

"How about you, Mr. Tall, Dark and Quiet? No stories about hideous reindeer sweaters or mustachioed great-aunts?"

Will realized that it was the girl with the drinks talking to him. "Um, no. I think my grandmother had a bearded wattle, though."

Four of the people standing in the group looked confused. The girl burst out laughing. "So did mine!"

She moved closer to him and reached out her hand. "I'm Elizabeth. My sister over there is dating Charles. I'm the hanger-on. Third-wheel. Designated driver."

"Yada-yada-yada," Will replied quietly. "Sounds familiar."

She laughed again.

He nodded and realized he was smiling back at her. "I'm Will Darcy, resident humbug."

"So I noticed." Elizabeth suddenly looked past him and grinned wickedly. "You do realize you were standing under the mistletoe for like, 10 minutes, right?"

He spun around and spotted the offending greenery. "Oh god, no. Did I…I mean did I look desperate or anything?"

She wrinkled her nose and considered him "No. You just looked like you wanted to be anyplace but here."

She swallowed the last of her drink and put the glass on a table. "Do you have someplace else you'd rather be?"

Will thought of his quiet apartment. The only signs of life were swimming in his fish tank. He often preferred it there, alone with a book and his music, but not right now.

"No."

"So, you're not a party guy. Hmmm," Elizabeth said, stroking her chin in an exaggerated manner. "Let me see. Are you the designated "Debbie Downer" of this holiday fest?"

Will was smiling until he realized perhaps this very attractive, very friendly woman wasn't joking around with him. Maybe she was just annoyed with his solemn personality at what was supposed to be a fun night. Crap.

"I'm afraid so," he stuttered.

"Whew, good," she replied. "I don't know anybody here, and they all keep talking about who they want to sleep with and which overpriced, immediately obsolete electronic thingie they want for Christmas. Want to go for a walk and look at the lights?"

She stared at him for a second and looked away. "I'm not trying to pick you up, sorry. I'm just not in the mood for vacuous holiday banter."

"Me either." He nodded dumbly. "The coats are in Charles' bedroom."

"Okay," Elizabeth whispered. "But be very careful. We have to pass under the mistletoe in every doorway. Could be a very dangerous mission."

"I'll protect you," he said, his heart swelling.

They'd walked two blocks, commenting on nice window displays and taking turns dropping coins in the buckets of Salvation Army bell-ringers, before she said it.

"I love the red and the green lights, but I think the blue and white lights for Hanukkah are so beautiful. I want to mingle them, but it's probably not politically correct."

"That's a great idea."

"My mom is half-Jewish," Elizabeth said. "But it was all Santa, all month long at our house. Her parents raised her that way. My sisters loved it. But I've always wondered if maybe a little mistletoe and a little menorah would make a good mix."

She stopped and watched the train putter around the tracks in the Grimsley's Toy Store window. "There's magic in both."

"A little gelt in your stocking?" Will said, his heart pounding.

Some long-ago lyrics popped into his head. _Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel. I made it out of clay…_

She turned her head and looked up at him. "Exactly. Dreidels and candy canes."

They stepped back from under the store awning and Will felt snow falling on his face. It felt cold and wet. It felt wonderful. He brushed it off his lashes. "You wouldn't mix Halloween and Valentine's Day too, would you? Or New Year's and Labor Day?"

He waited for her to answer, but she just smiled up at him, stifling a laugh and shrugged. A large snowflake drifted down slowly, landing on the tip of her nose. Will reached his finger to brush it off. She caught his hand.

"L'chaim."


End file.
